


Sehnsucht

by Cerberusia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bloodplay, Body Part Kinks, Ephebophilia, Exhibitionism, Incest, M/M, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ItaSasu ficlets for Kink Bingo. 1. uniform/military kink; 2. bodies & body parts; 3. washing/cleaning; 4. exhibitionism/exposure; 5. pain; 6. bloodplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. shake the leaves from the tree - uniform/military kink

Sometimes, Sasuke wonders whether they deliberately designed the ANBU uniform to be sexy.

Because it is, and there's no two ways about it. A tight black top, sleeveless to show off the wearer's invariably muscled shoulders and biceps, further highlighted by those long black gloves. Some of the masks are kinda creepy, but they've got kinky potential...yeah, Sasuke's definitely into it.

Now, you're not technically meant to know who's in ANBU: it's on a need-to-know basis only. But after you work with someone for a while and get to know their movements and voice, and then that same voice and those same mannerisms turn up on some supposedly-anonymous masked ANBU...and that's not even accounting for the myriad ways in which one might catch sight of an ANBU tattoo (a practice which Sasuke has never understood the point of, by the way). Itachi's usual high-collared Uchiha shirts have sleeves which cover his tattoo, so no-one thinks anything of it, but it's not like he can hide it from Sasuke when they still share baths.

Itachi looks the best in his uniform, of course, because Itachi looks best in everything. And in nothing, as Sasuke has learnt from the aforementioned baths. He's never seen Itachi get dressed in his ANBU uniform, but he likes to imagine it, especially the smooth stretch of the gloves and the solid weight of the armguards.

And as for what Itachi _does_ in that uniform — images of his brother calmly and efficiently slitting a faceless man's throat make him squirm and touch his fingertips to the inside of his thigh, drawing out the pleasure.

Sasuke thinks of his brother's large, long-fingered hands, and imagines them wrapping around someone's throat; the image is interspersed with the impossible dream of Itachi's hand around Sasuke's cock. Sasuke's in the middle of puberty and growing out of his clothes every few months, but Itachi still has twenty centimetres on him, and his hand would engulf Sasuke from root to tip. He wants it so badly his chest hurts.

The moment he's been waiting for arrives: the front door slides open, making only a whisper of noise, but one which Sasuke is well accustomed to. His brother's footsteps are soundless, but Sasuke can track his progress down the corridor, past Sasuke's room to his own. Sasuke imagines him, all dressed up in his ANBU gear, flak jacket stained with blood, and his pulse quickens. He imagines Itachi pausing in front of Sasuke's room and instead of continuing on to his own, entering Sasuke's.

He listens intently to the rustles and clinks of Itachi's disrobing, and tries to assign each sound to its item of clothing: the clinks of the shuriken holster, headband and armguards, the thump of the jacket and sheathed katana, the snap of the gloves, and finally the rustle of fabric. Sasuke imagines the striptease, the insignia of rank removed to reveal pale flesh until his vision of Itachi stands naked before him, lithe and pale, luminous in the moonlight, his hair unbound over his shoulders.

In the other room, the sheets rustle as Itachi gets into bed; in Sasuke's head, behind closed lids, he crawls into Sasuke's bed, the futon dipping under his weight. Sasuke can almost imagine his body heat.

He gives in at last, imagining Itachi lying beside him as he takes his cock in hand and squirms with pleasure. Itachi - the real Itachi - will know, of course: there's no way he's fallen asleep so quickly. The possibility of his older brother listening in and knowing what he's doing both scares and excites Sasuke, the fear only intensifying the thrill. In any case, there's no way that Itachi could ever know what he's thinking of while he's doing it (but Itachi has always known everything about Sasuke, been able to divine any fact, any secret, just with a glance, so what if - but that's too scary to think about).

Sasuke masturbates himself to climax listening to Itachi's breathing in the next room, steady and just a little too fast for slumber.


	2. again in the lap of the lioness - bodies & body parts

There are things in this rotten world of shinobi that don't make sense. The sending of children as young as twelve into ANBU, for instance; the training of children for war in the first place; war itself; the fact that a twelve-year-old is considered old enough to kill and at thirteen an acceptable ANBU captain, but not old enough for sex.

This last one weighs heavily on his mind when he takes his baths with Sasuke. At twelve, Sasuke has just been put on his genin team under Itachi's former ANBU comrade, the Copy-Nin Kakashi. Not that he's meant to know who was under that feline mask, but Itachi has an excellent memory for voices. It's early days yet, but if he performs as well in his four-man cell as he did at the Academy, they'll be looking to have him follow in his older brother's footsteps and promote him to ANBU as soon as possible - with the added bonus of having another Uchiha kept under close scrutiny. And Sasuke, in his hero-worship of Itachi, will jump at the chance.

They could wait, of course: Itachi has got very good at waiting. But the fact is that he _appreciates_ Sasuke's still-developing body. Sasuke started puberty eight months ago; Itachi had noticed first, of course, sensitive to any change in his little brother, taking note of the increase in testicular capacity which heralds adolescence in boys. The slight thickening of the hair above his penis, which is just beginning to increase in length - all these things Itachi notes and commits to memory, the signs-soon-to-be-relics of Sasuke growing up.

He wants to touch his brother's developing genitals so badly that he finally understands why sexual desire is so often referred to as hunger, a gut-wrenching need turning hot and heavy in his stomach. He wishes he could takes Sasuke's little package all in his hand, so hot, so soft, so vulnerable, the skin sheathing his testicles just beginning to redden.

Or, even better, he thinks he could just about fit the whole lot in his mouth, balls and all, feel the heartbeat against the roof of his mouth, velvety skin on his tongue.

But he knows he must wait, so he settles for the restrained sensual pleasure of washing Sasuke and putting his hands all over him, even though Sasuke is old enough to wash himself. He had once idly, wryly, suggested to Sasuke that it might be embarrassing to be washed by his big brother now that he was practically grown-up, but Sasuke had vigorously denied it. It's our bonding time, he'd said, just the two of us. So Itachi doesn't feel bad.

One day soon, Sasuke will experience his first ejaculation. Itachi would like it to be at his hands, but he accepts that not every first time can belong to him. Better to let Sasuke spend a few months learning and adapting, coming to terms with growing up - not discounting the possibility that Sasuke will come to him of his own volition. He's certainly shared everything else with his big brother. Whichever happens, when Sasuke is ready, Itachi will offer him the same thing that Shisui offered him, and Sasuke will accept, and finally Itachi will kiss him like lovers do and press together their naked bodies and finally, _finally_ get what he wants.


	3. Essential (when godliness is improbable) - washing/cleaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my Kink Bingo _'washing/cleaning'_ square. Could also be titled 'In which Cerberus kinks on perverting traditional Japanese bathing customs'.

At twelve, Sasuke was probably too old to still be bathing with his brother, but instead of complaining about how he was growing up now and was old enough to want some privacy like his parents had expected, he'd happily gone on sharing baths with and generally worshipping Itachi. His parents, attention taken by other things like when this planned coup was finally going to come off, let Itachi - their mature, sensible son who had been for all practical purposes an adult since before he hit double digits - deal with it.

Itachi's solution was not to consider it a problem, which worked very well for everyone concerned.

At fifteen, Sasuke is definitely too old to be sharing baths with Itachi and neither of them cares any more than they did three years ago. Sasuke is living out with Itachi because Itachi didn't want to leave him behind and their parents thought it might prepare Sasuke for adulthood. They also, judging by the questions they keep asking Sasuke when he comes by for dinner, wanted someone to keep an eye on Itachi, which Sasuke thinks is understandable; he worries about Itachi being left on his own too, decorated ANBU captain or no. He's not sure why they keep asking him about Itachi's feelings towards the clan and the village, though. They don't talk about any of that.

Their daily routine is pretty simple, everyday tasks fitted around missions when they have them and training when they don't. They eat together when they can. Sasuke spends time with his peer group, particularly his former genin team, and Itachi doesn't socialise at all; he's not been quite the same since Shisui died, though if Sasuke brings Naruto and Sakura over he seems to enjoy their company for a while before politely excusing himself.

They don't always have time for baths: after a mission, however much either might like to unwind in a bath, a quick shower followed by passing out is usually more practical. But Sasuke always perks up at the sound of the bath being run, because it means that Itachi is going to touch him. They always touch, of course, the way any two people sharing a house would: Itachi's hands briefly on Sasuke's hips as he eases past him to get something out of a cabinet, their shoulders brushing as they sit next to each other. But this is touching with _intent_.

They soap each other up like they've done since they were children, then wash it off with a wet flannel. Hair-washing is done in the shower, alone, because it's easier, but Sasuke relishes the chance to touch Itachi's hair anyway as he pins it up like a woman's to keep it out of the way as he washes his brother's back. He is never so aware of the difference in size as when he does this: Sasuke is perfectly average for his age and still growing, but Itachi has ten centimetres and several kilograms on him, and his broad shoulders reflect that.

With Itachi's back turned to him, bare and inviting, it would be easy for Sasuke to press a kiss to the base of his neck or the muscle of his shoulder. He doesn't, because that's not what they do, but he thinks about it as he runs the cloth over his brother's pale skin. He's careful not to pay any extra attention to Itachi's genitals, because if he starts he doesn't think he'll be able to keep himself from sucking Itachi off there and then.

When it's Itachi's turn to put his hands all over Sasuke, Sasuke can hardly contain himself. Itachi says it's like petting a cat, Sasuke arching into every firm stroke of the textured cloth over his skin. He focusses on his breathing, lets himself sink into it and become hyperaware of the flannel, the rivulets of water, the warmth of Itachi's hand resting idly on his waist. His hypersensitised skin makes the touch of the flannel almost unbearable, leaving tingling in its wake: the sparks when Itachi brushes over his nipples make him jerk and flex his thighs. Itachi just keeps doing, down his chest to his stomach, his abdomen, his cock. He must notice that it's half-hard, every time, but he doesn't pause, just moves onto Sasuke's thighs while Sasuke tries to get his ragged breathing under control.

Thoroughly washed, they move to the tub, which just fits the both of them. It's entirely inappropriate, one adult and one near-adult squashed together in a bath, no matter their blood relation, but this is how they've done it ever since Sasuke can remember, and if it now only works it Sasuke pretty much lies on top of Itachi so they can both stretch out their legs, so be it. Sasuke lies sideways so his erection isn't poking Itachi and they can both pretend its not there, buries his face in the wet crook of Itachi's neck, and closes his eyes, safe in the cradle of his brother's arms.


	4. Hope's accursed bands - exhibitionism/exposure

Itachi is _definitely_ looking. Sasuke stretches, a little self-consciously, a thrill going through him when Itachi's eyes follow the hem of his shirt when it rides up. He's wearing clothes that are wonderfully soft from wear but also, as has become rapidly apparent, slightly too small. He's not got much broader this past year, but he has got a couple of inches taller, making both the shirt and the shorts unsuitable for wearing out the house. Good for wearing at home in the sunshine and teasing Itachi, though.

Sasuke lies back on the deck, letting his shirt expose still more of his pale stomach. He doesn't know why Itachi's interested - the girls at the Academy all thought he was pretty, but they were his own age and Itachi's an adult. Aren't adults meant to be interested in people who look like adults, not skinny fourteen year olds? Sasuke is: Naruto and Sakura are both, objectively speaking, kinda cute, but they've got nothing on his tall, dark and handsome older brother.

His tall, dark, handsome older brother who's still looking at him. His eyes are flickering between Sasuke's bare stomach and his thighs, exposed by shorts which are a good two inches shorter than they used to be. He could be discreet if he wanted to be, so discreet that Sasuke would never know that he was being watched, but he isn't, which means that he doesn't care whether Sasuke knows he's being ogled.

Maybe he _wants_ Sasuke to know. Itachi's gaze is a physical weight, depthless eyes fixed on Sasuke, and Sasuke feels prickles break out all over his skin. He squirms, feeling the start of an erection which his shirt isn't long enough to hide.

Before he can do anything about it, Mother calls them in for dinner. As they go in, Itachi's hand ghosts over the small of Sasuke's back: the doting older brother, always looking out for his sibling. Sasuke feels goosebumps rise on his arms, and is hardly there for the first few minutes of the meal until Father starts asking him about his possible promotion to ANBU.

In the back of his wardrobe, Sasuke digs out an even older pair of shorts, the ones he wore back when he was first placed on his genin team and ten centimetres shorter. He'll have to do something about the waist, but the legs are just right, tight around his newly-muscled thighs.

The waist, as it turns out, can be 'let out'. It takes him ten minutes to work out that this can be done and another twenty to work out _how_ to do it, but he manages to enlarge it a couple of inches to fit his fourteen-year-old frame. He's deeply grateful that, like most Uchiha, his muscle has made him lean rather than bulky. The legs he cuts off almost entirely, leaving only a couple of inches of inner leg. He tries them on, and surveys his handiwork in the mirror. They're indecent: if a young kunoichi tried to leave the house in these, she'd almost certainly be told to change into something less revealing.

They're _perfect_. He waits nearly a month for a day when both he and Itachi are at home but both their parents are away, and when he comes back after training he wriggles into the shorts and his slightly-too-small shirt, and makes his way into the living room to find Itachi engrossed in a scroll. He hesitates for a moment - maybe the scroll is important ANBU business and this is a bad time - but then Itachi looks up to greet him with a smile and Sasuke can almost _see_ all thoughts of scrolls fly out the window.

Itachi opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and swallows audibly.

"Sasuke," he says, a little croakily, "come and sit down." He pats the space beside him, and Sasuke sits obligingly. The shorts are so tight you can see the outline of his cock in them, and when he sits with his thighs pressed together they push the bulge out even more. It's obscene, it's embarrassing, and Itachi looks like all his birthdays have come at once.

On the surface, it appears that Itachi has gone back to reading the scroll. Sasuke rests his head on his brother's shoulder, shuffling closer so that his thigh is pressed to Itachi's. Absentmindedly, almost carelessly, Itachi puts a hand on Sasuke's thigh. A thrill, an electric, shocking thrill runs through him, and it takes all his self-control not to jump a foot. Itachi typically runs slightly cool, but his hand on Sasuke's bare thigh is hot as a brand. Sasuke knows his erection is obvious and his breath is short, and he doesn't care. It's always like this: so close, never quite pushing past that last boundary to actual sexual contact, never quite enough.

Itachi's hand squeezes his thigh. Sasuke shudders. They don't do much skin-on-skin contact, and the sudden intimate shock has sensitised him, sending prickles all through him. His erection aches in his shorts. At least Itachi's breathing isn't quite even either.

Sasuke has to fist his hands in the material of the sofa as Itachi keeps squeezing his thigh, kneading the flesh absentmindedly as he reads his scroll. He squirms slightly, scared to move too much in case he dislodges Itachi's hand, but desperate for relief. Just a bit higher —

As if responding to his silent please, Itachi's hand begins to slowly slide up his leg. Sasuke holds his breath. The heel of Itachi's hand now rests at the juncture of leg and hip, so _close_ —

Itachi starts to roll up the scroll with one hand. Sasuke tastes bitter disappointment. Not today, then.

But.

As Itachi makes to stand, as if by accident, his hand slips to Sasuke's inner thigh. And then, in a casual move which can't in any way be called accidental, it cups and squeezes Sasuke's cock. Only for a second, but that firm, tender and _utterly_ intentional grip drives the breath right out of Sasuke's lungs. He thinks he squeaks.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Itachi stands up, briefly clasps his shoulder, and ambles off to presumably his own room, leaving Sasuke open-mouthed and trembling behind him. He hadn't even made eye contact. Another thing to pretend isn't happening, but Sasuke will take it if it means his brother actually _touching_ him.

Itachi is barely out of the room when Sasuke all but tears open the button of his shorts, yanks down the zipper and starts to masturbate frantically, pulling jerkily at his cock. His hand's too small, but for once it doesn't matter. Itachi _touched_ him - _groped_ him even. Itachi can almost certainly hear him panting from his room; maybe he's even listening in, wanting to hear Sasuke touching himself.

Sasuke comes, shuddering, over his own hand, not bothering to muffle himself. He wants Itachi to hear.

When he makes his way back to his own room on shaky legs, he notices as he passes that Itachi's door is slightly ajar.


	5. night opens her lap - pain

Itachi would be rough with him, Sasuke is sure. The man his brother has turned into, the one who broke his wrist so casually, so carelessly - he would throw Sasuke to the floor and have his way with him just like he has in Sasuke's dreams ever since he hit puberty. But now he has the precise impression of what his grown-up brother looks like: the exact height difference, the strong veins in his man's hands, his Sharingan constantly activated. He's so big now, still so much bigger than Sasuke - he could pin him down with his weight and height alone.

(Alone, in his empty and silent apartment, Sasuke wraps a hand around his cock and lets himself slip into fantasy).

Hazy scenarios flash across his mind: that hotel hallway, the training grounds, their old house - but in the end the fantasy takes place on a featureless plain. Itachi has him facedown on a hard floor, one hand holding his wrists above his head, the other sneaking up under his shirt while Itachi sits on his legs.

Itachi's body-heat burns through their clothes (in bed, Sasuke swelters under his blankets), his hand hot on Sasuke's chest as it gropes him roughly, black-painted nails scraping over his nipples. The span of Itachi's two hands could wrap around Sasuke's waist, thumb-to-thumb and pinky-to-pinky.

Itachi's other hand is pulling down Sasuke's shorts, yanking at them until the waistband sits just under his arse, his genitals still covered. Itachi takes one arse-cheek in his hand and squeezes it, molesting the soft white flesh, manipulating it with his long fingers. Sasuke shudders, wriggling as much as he's able.

Itachi's hand slips from his arse and down between his legs to grope his testicles. Sasuke keeps squirming, then freezes at the wet touch of Itachi's tongue on his neck, just where the curse seal sits. He licks at it like he's rubbing it off. Maybe he is - big brother can do anything. Sasuke sighs. Then the licks turn into bites, and he yelps. Itachi twists his nipples roughly and Sasuke cries out (alone in bed, he whimpers).

Itachi's hot, hard cock presses at his hole; Sasuke kicks, but the shorts hinder him and, slowly, Itachi slides home. Sasuke cries and aches (writhing on his futon pretending very hard that his three fingers, thrust in roughly, are equivalent to Itachi's cock), feeling his brother fill him, hard and unforgiving.

"Sasuke," says Itachi in his ear, "Sasuke." Sasuke moans and thrashes beneath him, hips rising to meet Itachi's thrusts.

"Nii-san," he says in a desperate, tearful whine, " _nii-san_ —"

Itachi breaks his wrist.

Sasuke recalls the sickening crunch of bone, the pain that turned his stomach. He doesn't remember screaming, but he's been told that he did.

But he also remembers the brief, burning heat of Itachi's hand on his arm, still so much bigger than his own. And so the fantasy continues, phantom pain shooting up Sasuke's arm as he imagines Itachi fucking him still, not stopping for such a petty thing as his brother's comfort. Sasuke twists himself up in his sheets, rolling this way and that as he jams his fingers up his arse as far and as hard as he can, his own panting harsh in his ears. He rolls back onto his knees with his arse shoved high in the air to muffle himself with the pillow when he comes. He shudders with aftershocks, sprawled on his back, the ceiling of his apartment swimming into cloud patterns.

His wrist aches until he falls asleep.


	6. fish and flesh woven into sea - bloodplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Itachi takes his brother for extra shuriken practice exactly once after he enters the Academy._ Bloodplay.

Itachi takes his brother for extra shuriken practice exactly once after he enters the Academy. He takes him down by the fish-rich Nakano, on the far edge of Uchiha land.

He puts up targets, with Sasuke helping. Itachi lets him carry the blocks and follow him, so that Itachi can take them one by one and stick them high in the trees. He presses close to Itachi, watching the target-setting process intently.

"Will Shisui-nii be coming?" he had asked Itachi earlier, when he had come home to find Itachi waiting there in the genkan, ready to put on his boots.

"No, it's just you and me this time." Sasuke had beamed and all but hauled him out of the house, hot little hand clasped tight in his.

"Good!" he'd said. "This way I get you all to myself." Sasuke has proved to be an unexpectedly jealous little brother. Itachi quite likes it. At least somebody's always happy to see him.

Itachi secures the last target and drops to the ground. When he looks at his brother, Sasuke's eyes are fixed on him.

They practice: Itachi demonstrates, and Sasuke copies. He's good for his age. Not the best in his class, though, not quite: the girl whose parents run the weapons shop is top in shuriken. Itachi knows it bothers him.

Sasuke's weakness is his stamina. It's an Uchiha problem, which will be corrected in Sasuke as it has been in all other Uchiha; but at seven going-on eight, Sasuke tires easily. Eleven sets in, Itachi sees the fatigue set in. If Sasuke were an enemy, this is the point when he'd go in for the kill, the moment concentration fails.

Itachi knows the throw is wrong before the shuriken has even left Sasuke's hand. He lets Sasuke throw it anyway.

"Ah!" The shuriken thuds into a tree, far off course, as Sasuke pulls his hand close to his chest.

"Let me see, Sasuke." Itachi takes hold of his closed fist and gently draws it towards himself so he can inspect the damage. He pries open Sasuke's fingers carefully, and after a moment Sasuke willingly unfurls them.

The wound is only a small nick to Sasuke's finger: bleeding sluggishly, painful and irritating as it heals, but not dangerous. Sasuke will suffer many of them as he advances in weapons practice; you can tell a ninja by his scarred hands.

"Sorry, Itachi-nii," says Sasuke forlornly. The blood beads and trickles slowly down his finger, towards the palm.

 _Accidents happen,_ Itachi means to say. _As you get more experienced, they will happen less._ This is more or less the truth, though training does include a long period in which everything a shinobi learns seems designed to make accidents happen _more_.

Instead, he dips his head and guides Sasuke's finger to his mouth.

He means, vaguely, to kiss it better. Instead, he opens his mouth and Sasuke's small injured finger slides in. It explodes with salt on his tongue.

"I-Itachi-nii?" Sasuke holds very still. His finger flexes a little inside Itachi's mouth. It feels a little cold, though that's surely only because Itachi's mouth is hot. The metallic taste is his blood, his rich red blood oozing out onto Itachi's tongue.

Itachi flexes his tongue, gently rubbing the wound, cleaning off the blood. It trickles down his throat, thin and sharp but somehow sweet. His finger feels small and thin and fragile in Itachi's mouth, as if he could bite down and snap it clean off.

He cleans the wound tenderly with his tongue, soft undulating strokes. He feels Sasuke trembling, just a little. _I love you,_ he thinks as he sucks and laps at Sasuke's flesh, _I love you, little brother_. He envisions cutting his own finger and offering it to Sasuke, bonding them further by blood, like renewing a vow.

When at last he lets Sasuke's finger slide out of his mouth, spit-wet and glistening, the wound is barely a thin line. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was almost healed.


End file.
